Embrace the diversity of Indian food.

As the pandemic surges, diners and celebrities have drummed up support for BIPOC and immigrant restaurateurs. However, to revolutionize the industry we need more than one-off campaigns. Alongside policy to secure humane working conditions for workers, we need to reexamine our approach to “ethnic food”.

TAKE ACTION

Reflect: What are your expectations regarding Indian food and Indian restaurants?

Support restaurants that challenge your perceptions of the limits of Indian cuisine.
Advocate for the people who labor to put food on your plate, including but not limited to farmers, service workers, and BIPOC and immigrant restaurateurs.

GET EDUCATED

By Aarohi Narain (she/her)

As we wrote in a previous newsletter, it’s crucial to ask: which restaurants do we deem worthy of our dollars and why? And since seeking “authenticity” often disadvantages restaurateurs from immigrant backgrounds, what’s at stake when we appreciate the complex journey of the food on our plate?

Arriving in the United States as a privileged international student, I realized that I carried my own warped ideas about “authenticity” in the context of Indian food. Naive and self-righteous, the fare I encountered at Midwestern Indian restaurants struck me as simulacra– diluted, distorted imitations that bore little resemblance to the flavors and textures of my upbringing in New Delhi. But in coming to this conclusion, I had ignored the larger legacies of which I am a part.

Through a combination of the historical forces of Partition and the contemporary pressures on many immigrants to assimilate, diverse South Asians created the food most diners readily associate with Indian cuisine.

As Krishnendu Ray, Professor of Food Studies, writes in The Ethnic Restaurateur, more than half of nominally Indian restaurants just in New York City are operated by people from Bangladesh. Similarly, it has been estimated that 85-90 percent of Indian restaurants in Britain are run by Pakistanis, Bangladeshis, Nepalese and more (South Asia: Journal of South Asian Studies). Zooming in further, around 8 out of 10 curry house chefs in Britain hail specifically from the northeastern Bangladeshi region of Sylhet (The Guardian).

Sylhet is an unmatched, albeit underexplored, emblem of the Indian subcontinent’s violent and precarious intimacies. It’s also crucial to the story of how Indian food circulates.

A quick turn to history: in 1947 the Partition of India, the largest ever mass migration, ended almost two centuries of British rule. Britain not only extracted $45 trillion from India (Al Jazeera), but also knowingly fomented communal tensions through deploying the policy of divide and rule during its yoke. Eventually, the demand emerged for two separate nations to be carved out along religious lines: Muslim-majority Pakistan and Hindu-majority secular India (Vox).

A British lawyer who had never been to India drew the new borders. Sylhet, a district that was Bengali-speaking and skewed Muslim in the otherwise Hindu-majority province of Assam, became the subject of a referendum (BBC). Residents opted to join East Pakistan (Scroll). Then following Bangladesh’s Liberation War in 1971, Sylhet joined independent Bangladesh.

It was enterprising migrants primarily from Sylhet who disrupted the otherwise bland culinary order of Britain as its colonies collapsed. At curry houses, they invented the genre of nominally Indian cooking– spice-scaled post-pub curries to enliven the timid British palate– that continues to shape dominant perceptions of Indian food across the globe. Chicken tikka masala, the orange-hued poster child of Indian food once praised as a “true British national dish”, likely sprung from these kitchens (The Guardian).

Early waves of Indian restaurants in the United States espoused the curry house logic: menus typically featured the likes of chicken tikka masala and Anglicized stews, and later incorporated dishes drawn from Mughlai cooking like braises, kebabs, and grilled breads (The Juggernaut). This blended style became so central to the American awareness of Indian food that when many Bangladeshi immigrants arrived in the 1970s, they opened nominally Indian restaurants to cater to consumer interest. Instead of presenting food that reflected their heritage, they served versions of Indian food they assumed were already familiar and more approachable to most diners (The New York Times).

It’s only in the past decade or so that a small crop of restaurants has begun resisting the generalizing label of “Indian”. And because within India culinary styles are as deeply regional as they are molded by caste and class, chefs in the diaspora are creating more regionally specific offerings– expansive buffets unfurling as gastronomic maps of an imagined South Asia are giving way to Gujarati home cooking, Bengali street food, and Malabari coastal cuisine alike (NBC).

Still, most mainstream restaurants stick to the old formula: about 90% of Indian restaurants in New York City alone have not meaningfully moved away from it (The Juggernaut). Even as the diasporas mature, the “authentic” that Yelp reviewers demand remains static. Meanwhile, the people behind the food– with their interconnected yet distinct identities– swing wildly between invisibility and hypervisibility, becoming targets of hate crimes and racialized surveillance.

Perhaps, fifty years from now, there will be a course correction for Anglicized and Americanized iterations of Indian food– as we are seeing now for American Chinese food– that will view the culinary improvisations of those early Indian restaurants with more empathy. Instead of relying on fragile nation-states as the units of our analysis, perhaps convergence will become the norm when it comes to understanding what shapes cuisine.

Imagine a cartography of karak chai, spread out across migrant communities in the Gulf. A ghost story centered on dhal puri– split pea flatbread with chutneys sold as street food in the Caribbean– a dish first created by Bhojpuri-speaking indentured laborers that have somehow vanished from where it arose. A tender map tracing the journey between what restaurateurs might choose to savor at home– in moments of celebration– and what they serve to survive.

In the meantime, quitting chicken tikka masala is not the solution. It’s seeing how, as bell hooks writes, “ethnicity” is treated as spice: seasoning that livens up the dull dish of mainstream white culture under capitalism. It’s supporting immigrant restaurateurs even when they present something unfamiliar or a particular food you cherish but prepared differently from what you’re used to. It’s appreciating the complex journeys– the history, politics, and personal investments– of what’s on your plate.

Key Takeaways

The food that many diners reflexively associate with Indian cuisine was actually created by diverse South Asians.
A vast number of Indian restaurants in the United States and beyond are run by migrants who trace their ancestry to Bangladesh, Nepal, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and others.
Partition spurred the largest forced migration in human history– an estimated 20 million Hindus, Sikhs, and Muslims were displaced (UNHCR).

11/23/2020 | Fight food insecurity.

7/22/2020 | Don't Americanize other cultures.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Thank you for all your financial contributions! If you haven't already, consider making a monthly donation to this work. These funds will help me operationalize this work for greatest impact.

Subscribe on Patreon | Give one-time on PayPal | Venmo @nicoleacardoza

Nicole Cardoza 4/28/21 Nicole Cardoza 4/28/21

Explore the origins of cuisine.

Happy Wednesday and welcome back! Sometimes, it's difficult to realize how much we've lost through colonialism until we recognize how much we've accepted as the "norm". I always stumble into that realization through food, which is why I'm grateful that Aarohi joins us today to share more about the history of Indian cuisine.

This newsletter is a free resource and that's made possible by our paying subscribers. Consider giving $7/month on our website or Patreon. Or you can give one-time on our website or PayPal. You can also support us by joining our curated digital community. Thank you to all those that support!

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Currently, India is experiencing unprecedented levels of COVID-19. Here is a list of individuals and organizations that need support: bit.ly/MutualAidIndia
Reflect: What are your expectations regarding Indian food and Indian restaurants?
Support restaurants that challenge your perceptions of the limits of Indian cuisine.
Advocate for the people who labor to put food on your plate, including but not limited to farmers, service workers, and BIPOC and immigrant restaurateurs.

GET EDUCATED

By Aarohi Narain (she/her)

Sylhet is an unmatched, albeit underexplored, emblem of the Indian subcontinent’s violent and precarious intimacies. It’s also crucial to the story of how Indian food circulates.

Key Takeaways

The food that many diners reflexively associate with Indian cuisine was actually created by diverse South Asians.
A vast number of Indian restaurants in the United States and beyond are run by migrants who trace their ancestry to Bangladesh, Nepal, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and others.
Partition spurred the largest forced migration in human history– an estimated 20 million Hindus, Sikhs, and Muslims were displaced (UNHCR).

11/23/2020 | Fight food insecurity.

7/22/2020 | Don't Americanize other cultures.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 11/22/20 Nicole Cardoza 11/22/20

Stand against hate crimes.

We were victims of a home burglary in 2018. By the attending officers’ own admission, we were singled out, “…targeted since you are from India.” Burglars had watched our house, learned our routines, and identified when we wouldn't be home. Officers admitted that our region, metro Atlanta was plagued with ethnically profiled burglaries for more than a decade, as was America. Their apathy and lack of urgency horrified us.

Happy Sunday, and welcome back to the Anti-Racism Daily. Today, Nandita joins us to emphasize the importance of recognizing crimes as hate crimes when they happen, particularly against the South Asian community. The lack of correlation between crimes and their potential racial motivations contributes to the bias that allows this violence to persist.

We've recently launched a referral program where you can unlock some ARD products when you bring more of your community to the conversation. This work takes everyone, and we'd love your help in spreading the word. And thank you to everyone that has been doing this from day one! You can join here >

Thank you to everyone that makes this newsletter possible! Support our work by making a one-time contribution on our website or PayPal, or giving monthly on Patreon. You can also Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). To subscribe, go to antiracismdaily.com. You can share this newsletter and unlock some fun rewards by signing up here. I'm grateful for each one of you that's with me on this journey.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Support victims’ mental health. Use resources in South Asian Mental Health Initiative & Network, Mental Health America, especially BIPOC resources for community-specific needs.
Engage with local branches of nonprofits like South Asians Americans Leading Together (SAALT: https://saalt.org/about/) and the Anti-Defamation League (www.adl.org) for safer and healthier communities.
Reflect: do what hate crimes look like to you? Increase your awareness and perception to protect communities of color. The Mental Health America’s Racial Trauma Resources can guide both the community and victims of racial trauma.

GET EDUCATED

By Nandita Godbole (she/her)

The Jury Expert explains a hate crime as one where a perpetrator may “choose” a victim based on recognizable characteristics (such as race or ethnicity) (The Jury Expert). Additionally, crimes, including burglaries, targeting ethnic minorities are considered hate crimes, a federal offense (Uniform Crime Reporting Program, FBI). Hate crimes carry a minimum sentence of ten years to life and a large fine. Instead, a burglary sentence is one to five years in a county jail or state prison, and a fine (criminaldefenselawyer.com.)

Local investigating authorities bear the sole onus of qualifying a hate crime, reporting to the FBI based on “criminal activity” and “indication of hatred” - eg. graffiti or destruction of religious spaces. Though the victims’ ethnicity likely motivated criminal intent, overlooking it reduces the burden of reporting. Incorrectly classified racially targeted burglaries mean burglars only face a short jail stint if convicted. This emboldens criminals, makes South Asian communities more vulnerable, discounts their trauma, and denies justice.

Home burglaries targeting people from South Asia are often meticulously planned, and not crimes of convenience. As one of two South Asians in our neighborhood, we were profiled and targeted. The other family was burgled some years prior in Florida. In addition to being burgled, our two prayer altars were rifled, prayer books thrown and trampled upon, religious artifacts stolen or destroyed. Yet, the burglary was never investigated as a hate crime.

In 2017, more cities saw more burglaries targeting Asians and South Asians. In 2018, Cobb County, Georgia, (Metro Atlanta) reported 47.6% of burglaries targeted Asians (Cobb County Courier) and are widespread across the U.S. (NBC News). Despite FBI laws, underreporting is often caused by cultural unfamiliarity, lack of sensitivity training, and unconscious bias (community event coverage). Victims are frequently shamed for their lifestyles, though local public records offer unhindered public access to information including homeowner identities (Freedom of Information Act). At a South Asian community event in Metro Atlanta in 2018, a Fulton County District Attorney (Georgia) publicly dismissed community concerns (Khabar Magazine), calling victims needlessly hysterical (Video of ‘Just Chai & Chat’ Event). Although he amended his statement later, this characterizes racial gaslighting and rampant complacency towards South Asian victims.

Underreporting Perpetuates The Problem

Until April 2020, Georgia and four other states in the US had no laws to protect victims of ethnically targeted crimes (Anti-Defamation League). Furthermore, South Asian Americans Leading Together (SAALT) quoted ProPublica’s report, that in 2017, 120 federal agencies had not complied with FBI mandates to submit hate crime data. In 2017, crime data missed crimes against Asian Americans and Pacific Islanders, nearly 10% of America’s population (Urban Institute). Elsewhere, UI noted a 34% increase in crimes targeting South Asians, informing that local laws offer disproportionate victim support, reluctance in reporting, and lack of community support (Urban Institute). Despite the surge in hate crimes, in 2019, federal agents processed fewer cases than before (Voice of America).

In 2017, according to the FBI, burglary related losses exceeded 3.14 billion dollars, with 62% residential burglaries or 2 billion dollars of individual financial losses. That same year, London taxpayers lost upwards of 67 million dollars (BBC) in similar burglaries. Our own property damages exceeded $30,000, and property loss exceeded $25,000 in stolen family heirlooms and religious artifacts.

Victims experience financial losses, property damages, increased homeowners insurance, health insurance, and more security measures. But a South Asians’ trauma is compounded by the loss of irreplaceable family heirlooms, emotional trauma from victimization, gaslighting, and being denied justice. Since 2018, our family works every day to chip away at the racial trauma of a burglary motivated solely by our ethnicity. Victims like us carry long-lasting scars; ordinary events trigger ailments (SAALT) like anxiety, sleep or eating disorders, depression, PTSD, sometimes escalating into serious concerns. Psychological suffering significantly exacerbates mental health issues in teens and young adults. Their day-to-day struggles are a traumatizing reminder of being culturally different and excluded. More than 40% of crime victims experience depression, feel unsafe, lose confidence in community resources and law enforcement, and their family relationships suffer (Research Gate). One in eight victims never recovers from the trauma (CABA). Although resources may be available via the FBI and through the National Center for Victims of Crime – underreporting skews data and access to recovery.

The “whitewashing” of crimes targeting ethnic minorities and people of color perpetuate trauma. It also discounts racially targeted home burglaries as mere burglaries and not hate crimes. Communities must demand action. Hate crimes against people of color are more than the burden of the two words. Victims did not get to choose. Neither should authorities. And until we reckon with this harm, our work towards a more equitable future is not complete.

KEY TAKEAWAYS

Hate crimes are calculated crimes, yet are frequently under-reported and inadequately investigated.
Understand the nuances of a hate-crime: when an individual is profiled for their ethnicity, and their person or property is willfully harmed to victimize them, it is a hate crime. It must be investigated and prosecuted as such.

PLEDGE YOUR SUPPORT

Nicole Cardoza 8/31/20 Nicole Cardoza 8/31/20

Condemn colorism.

Happy Monday! And welcome to day 88 of the Anti-Racism Daily newsletter! For the new faces here, I started this newsletter June 3. We publish one article a day, every day without fail, analyzing current events and providing tangible ways to dismantle white supremacy in your community. Whether we sign petitions, call our senators, hold brands accountable, or spark tough conversations at schools or workplaces, we commit to doing more than yesterday to change the system.

I'm incredibly grateful to have Daphni's perspective in today's article on colorism and its impact on the South Asian community. Understanding light skin privilege is critical to this work, and we'll continue to cover this topic as the weeks unfold.

As always, your support is greatly appreciated. Give one-time on our website, PayPal or via Venmo (@nicoleacardoza). Or, subscribe monthly to our Patreon to contribute regularly.

Nicole

TAKE ACTION

Call out colorism when you see it, holding people, brands, and corporations accountable.
For a deeper dive into why Indian Matchmaking is harmful and regressive, read Indian Matchmaking- A Lesson in How Not to Make Shows About India by Seema Hari, Naomi Joshi & Kanika Karvinkop here.
Reflect: How may you have participated or perpetuated colorist beliefs in your dating life and beyond?

GET EDUCATED

By Daphni Edwards

In July, Netflix premiered Indian Matchmaking, a dating show about a matchmaker from Mumbai and her single clients in India and the United States, giving viewers a glimpse of what the arranged marriage process looks like in today’s world. If you watched the show, you might’ve noticed the amount of times “fair” skin was casually deemed a must-have, desirable trait in a partner by both the matchmaker and singles alike.

Being Indian myself, I can tell you that for South Asians, this is commonplace. Light skin has been associated with power, status, and desirability for centuries, ever since white invaders taught us to hate our skin and prefer theirs (HuffPost). We grow up hearing and consuming messages that tell us fair, light skin = beauty. This has been accepted for generations, regarded as fact instead of harmful myth – one that not only affects marriageability and job opportunities but destroys self-esteem. We see it reflected in Bollywood and other major film industries where dark-skinned women are never the lead actresses- even going as far as painting light-skinned actresses in brownface over casting talent with dark complexions (CNN). We see it on popular matrimonial sites like Shaadi.com, where, until very recently, skin tone was a filter alongside age and location (BBC). We see it in our families when they treat the fair-skinned relative like a prized possession. And we see it reflected in the economy, where the estimated market value for skin lightening products in India—which includes creams, face washes, deodorants, and vaginal whiteners, is $4 billion (Fashion Network).

This is colorism.

Colorism is defined as “the differential treatment based on skin color, especially favoritism toward those with a lighter skin tone and mistreatment or exclusion of those with a darker skin tone, typically among those of the same racial group or ethnicity.” (Dictionary.com) Since the release of Indian Matchmaking, the deeply ingrained colorism that exists within the Indian community became visible to anyone around the world who has access to Netflix. The show was immediately criticized by Indian nationals and the diaspora alike –not for showcasing this problem, but for failing to address it, considering the large platform Netflix has to do so. It was a giant, awkward elephant in the room, causing harm to those who have been traumatized, dehumanized, and marginalized by colorist and casteist thinking. The obsession with fair skin seen on the show also undoubtedly left a bitter taste in the mouths of those who, just the month prior, were mourning and protesting the murder of George Floyd and countless other Black men, women, and children who were killed due to the color of their skin.

In the wake of the ongoing protests against systemic racism in America, the topic of colorism has been revitalized by many South Asians worldwide, this time emphasizing the role it plays in anti-Blackness and racist rhetoric. The denunciation of skin-tone prejudice was severe enough for Unilever to change the name of Fair and Lovely, India’s leading skin-lightening cream, to “Glow and Lovely”- also pulling the words “white,” “light,” and “fair” from all product packaging (Forbes). This move was performative at best, as the contents inside are still designed to lighten one’s skin, thus still promoting harmful beauty ideals. Many other brands (Olay, Neutrogena, Garnier) also showed support online for BLM while continuing to literally sell and profit off of the idea that white skin is “better” (Buzzfeed News).

Now let’s do some introspection and ask ourselves this: Do we, on an individual level, outwardly support the Black Lives Matter movement, rally against systemic racism, denounce police brutality, yet still uphold and perpetuate colorism in our daily lives? And in what ways?

The question posed goes for everyone, as colorism isn’t exclusive to the Indian community and certainly doesn’t discriminate on geography. Lori L. Tharps, author of the book Same Family, Different Colors: Confronting Colorism in America’s Diverse Families, once wrote: “Colorism is a societal ill felt in many places all around the world, including Latin America, East, and Southeast Asia, the Caribbean and Africa. Here in the U.S., because we are such a diverse population with citizens hailing from all corners of the earth, our brand of colorism is both homegrown and imported. And make no mistake, white Americans are just as ‘colorist’ as their brown brothers and sisters.” (TIME)

Skin tone plays a critical role in who gets ahead in our society and who does not, affecting media, politics, healthcare, business, and the criminal justice system. For example, a study done last year by Harvard sociology professor Ellis Monk found that a person’s lifetime chance of being arrested in America is directly proportional to their skin’s darkness. This is especially true among African Americans, and those with darker complexions tend to face harsher treatment when it comes to the law (QZ).

So what do we do? How do we address this problem? We can start by examining ourselves and identifying any biases we may have and to what degree. Reflect on how we view and speak about people with darker skin tones (POC- this includes how you treat yourself too!). Evaluate our beauty standards and dating preferences- are they inclusive? Avoid using “Black” as a negative connotation and call out those that do. Identify the ways we can uplift and celebrate dark skin. If you have kids, teach them at an early age that white skin is not superior to dark skin and that Black is most definitely beautiful.

Colorism and racism go hand in hand. You cannot be anti-racist while simultaneously being anti-Black. We must be committed to ending colorism, with our words, thoughts, and actions, because treating a person differently depending on their skin’s proximity to whiteness is just another tool that upholds white supremacy.

key takeaways

Even within the same race, the darkness of a person’s skin brings on different life experiences.
People profit from anti-blackness- the estimated market value for skin lightening products in India alone is $4 billion.
In the U.S., a person’s chance of being arrested is directly proportional to their skin’s darkness, especially among African Americans. The latter are already incarcerated at a higher rate than the rest of the population.